


Full of Shit

by No_this_is_not_a_good_username



Category: Revenge (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_this_is_not_a_good_username/pseuds/No_this_is_not_a_good_username
Summary: *Not actually related to show Revenge, but was forced to pick a fandom.*Steve Rodger: not based on Marvel CharacterPremise: Granny gets revenge.





	Full of Shit

_Setting: Lion Oak Apartments_

89 year old, Granny Badas, lived alone in her apartment, the same one she had lived in for the last ten years. At this day and age, she spent her time: relaxing indoors, watching television, and drinking wine. Very seldom did she seek to make contact with the world outside of her apartment, and it seemed, that the world was typically as unenthusiastic about reaching out to her in her own little world. Thus, she almost never expected any calls to come her way.

When one did, it shook her out of her stupor.

(Riiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggg)

"Hello?!" said Granny.

"Does Natasha Badas live here?", asked the voice on the line.

Natasha was the eldest daughter of Granny Badas. 

"Who is this?", replied Granny, frustrated that the person was asking questions of her when they had not even introduced them self.

"My name is Mr. Ismy Bizness. I work for the local sheriff's office in town. Your daughter, Natasha, has shown up in my system as having a warrant on account of five charges of Petty Theft. And as such, we at the office are looking for her, so that she may serve the time corresponding to her actions."

Granny was confused and distraught.

"Petty Theft?! Are you sure you are referring to my Natasha? She has never done anything bad her whole life?"

"I am afraid so, Ma'am. She stole 5 candy bars from the local Target and fled the scene. Thus, I need to know....is she living with you right now?", replied Mr. Bizness.

"No, sir...Natasha hasn't lived with me for a long time, but....."

The man cut her off.

"You're lying......why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying, sir.", implored Granny.

"Yes you are, you are so full of shit." cursed Mr. Bizness.

"I'm afraid, sir, that if you cannot speak to me with a sense of decency, then I will have to hang up on you."

More colorful language ensued from Mr. Bizness's end of the phone, before a click could be heard, as Granny hung up. She sighed, and started to walk back to the t.v. room, when all of a sudden the phone rang again. She picked up the receiver, only to hear Mr. Bizness's continued expletive-filled rant, followed by a new question. 

"Do you know where Natasha is right now?"

"No......I......do.......not! Have a nice day!" 

(Click)

_(Break Scene)_

_Setting: Granny's Apartment, 3 hours later_

This situation was getting out of control.

The phone had been ringing off the hook. In fact, she had received 48 calls in the last few hours, after the original two. 

She knew who they were all from, because each call went to voicemail. And at the end, she had 48 voicemail messages clogging her inbox, each with spiteful expletives and intimidating language. 

It was about time she nipped Mr. Ismy Buziness's actions in the butt.

The next time he rang again, she decided to answer the phone. However, before he could say anything, she interjected.

"You listen here. I have received 50 calls in the last few hours, all from you, questioning me about my daughter's whereabouts." she started. "If your brain is too tiny that you cannot figure out that I won't tell you shit, and am deliberately avoiding your calls, then let me make that clear right now. Now stop calling before I have to get other parties involved."

"Dammit woman! If you would only answer my question, then I could stop calling. However, you won't because you are so full of shit!"

"I believe that, if either of us is full of shit, then it is you, sir, as I am not the one harassing you over the phone to intimidate me into revealing information that isn't your business, Mr. Buziness. Now, please.....leave me alone!"

(Click)

There were no more phone calls that night, so Granny thought that that was the end of it.

She was wrong.....so wrong.

_(Break Scene)_

_Setting: Granny's apartment, the next day_

Granny was getting tired of this. 

She had gotten a temporary, and all too short, reprieve from the calls. However, today she was at 100 and counting by noon.

"Someone's got to end this...and if he won't, then I guess I will have to."

Thus, she began to hatch a plan.

_(Break Scene)_

_Setting: 1100 Cloverleaf Lane, Home of Mr. Buziness_

He heard a knocking at the door.

He opened it, and was greeted by a USPS member, holding a basket in one hand and a card in the other.

"These are for you. There's nothing to sign for today, so just take them, and have a nice day sir!"

Mr. Buziness nodded, grabbed both items, shut the door, and stood in the doorway watching the mailman drive away. Then, he turned and walked to his living room to see what the contents of each were.

He started with the letter. It read.

"Dear Mr. Buziness,

I hope you don't mind, but I looked you up on the internet, and found out what your address was. I wished to apologize for some of the things I said to you the other day, as well as how unhelpful I was being, when all you did was ask me a simple question. I was not acting like the 'Good Christian Woman' I was raised to be. To make it up to you, I have included below the last known address where my eldest lived. Furthermore, in the basket, I have also given you a batch of my best homemade cookies. These cookies are very popular within my family, so I know that they are good. I only recommend that you do not eat more than 1 or 2 in a sitting, because I have been told they are very rich.

Sorry again.

Mrs. Badas

P.S.: The last residence I have on file, that my daughter lived at, is 1410 Dodge Rover Lane. That is a local residence, so it shouldn't take you that long to find her. Happy hunting!"

'He'd be damned', he thought.

He made a break for the basket, and lifted the top, only to be greeted with the most heavenly sight. 

Cookies.....Lots and lots of cookies......Some of the best that he had ever seen. They were warm and looked to be some fancier version of Chocolate Chip.

He grabbed one, took a bite, and moaned.

These cookies not only looked to be the best, they were the best tasting cookies he had ever partaken in. He piled four onto his plate and flipped the channel on his t.v. to "Worst Cooks in America" on Food Network, one of his regular pastimes.

He'd finish the cookies, then he'd go find Natasha.

_(Break Scene)_

_Setting: 1410 Dodge Rover Lane, 2 hours later_

_Steve Rodger was sitting on his living room couch, watching television on his day off. Steve was the police officer for the city who was responsible for doing house checks to determine the health of aging residents, including Mrs. Badas. With her being 89, he had known her for quite a few years._

All off a sudden, there was a knock on his door.

"He opened it, chips still in hand, and asked the man outside, "May I help you?"

"Yes, sir. Does a Natasha Badas live here?"

"Natasha Badas?....You mean Alexandra Badas's eldest? She's never lived here...."

"What do you mean she's never lived here?" interjected Mr. Buziness irately.

"Just what I said...she's never lived here."

"But....I have it on very good authority that she does. Unless, that bitch lied."

"What bitch?", inquired Mr. Rodger, eyebrow raised. "Does this bitch have a name?"

"The one you just mentioned, Alexandra."

Mr. Bizness went on to explain the story of how he had came to find Steve's residence.

"Well, you know, son...", started Mr. Rodgers, "it is not a crime to lie."

"Yes, but....".

Mr. Rodgers cut him off.

"It is a crime, as you stated through your own volition, to harass someone with unwanted phone calls. As is, impersonating a police officer. Thus, I am afraid I will have to bring you into the station on my day off."

"Bring me in? Do you know who I am?"

"With all due respect, I do not know, nor do I care who you are. You should care about who I am, though. My name is Steve Rodger and I am an actual member of the local police force, unlike yourself. I have the jurisdiction to bring you in to be tried and booked, and Alexandra knows this too. I bet that is why she deliberately gave you my address. Now, if you'll come with me...."

Steve sat his chips down in order to pull out a pair of hand cuffs from his pants pocket, cuffed Ismy, and then sat him in the backseat of his squad car. He walked back into his house with the chips, rolled and clipped them, and sat them on the counter, making a promise that he would return to them later. Then, he walked back outside, locking the door behind him, got into the driver's seat of the squad car and drove away. 

_(Break Scene)_

_Setting: Granny's apartment, the next day_

_Granny Badas was sitting, watching t.v., and drinking wine as usual. All of a sudden, the doorbell rang._

_She answered it, only to be greeted by a familiar face._

"Steve, please, come on in. Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you, ma'am. I was just checking up on you to see how you were doing after this whole situation. Also, might I say, that was a brilliant plan to give him my address!"

"Well thank you! As you can see, I am quite alright. I know you are busy and probably have to go back to work at the Police Department, so I won't hold you up."

"Ok. Before I leave though, is there anything I can do to assist you?"

"Well, actually, there is one thing............"

_(Break Scene)_

_Setting: Local Jail, the next day_

"Prisoner 1037, you have a visitor.", yelled the prison guard monitoring the call center.

Ismy sat down at the only remaining seat, picked up the phone it corresponded to, and waited to see who would walk in.

Soon, a woman walked in. She wore a light pink power suit and her finest pearls. 

The woman sat down on the seat on the opposite side of the glass as him and picked up her end of the line.

"Do I know you?" he asked.

"Did you get my apology? The letter....the cookies.", the woman retorted.

"YOU!!! I am in here because of you. You gave me the wrong address on purpose."

"I did, but that does not change the fact that you are actually in here because of you. Now, may I ask, how you are faring here in prison?"

"You did not answer my question when I asked it, so I will not answer that one." declared Ismy.

"Well then, let me ask you another that might be more of interest to you. You haven't been sick since you got here have you?", inquired Mrs. Badas.

"Why would you think to ask that? As a matter a fact, I have. I spent all night being sick on one of the latrines here."

"My next question may clarify the intent of the former. How many of my cookies did you eat?"

Ismy thought about that statement for a moment. He knew that she had given an incorrect address for her daughter, so who's to say she did not mess with the cookies as well.

"What did you do to the cookies, you bitch?"

"I told you, you were full of shit, Mr. Buziness. I thought I'd help you get it out of your system. So, I put half a carton of laxatives in the cookie batter. Now, have a nice day!"

(Click)

Mrs. Badas hung up the phone, turned on her heels, and left the room to go fetch Steve. He would drive her back to her apartment.

Once she got back she planned to watch t.v. and drink some wine, as she had had enough of the shit of the outside world to last a lifetime.


End file.
